Will you Drive My Sleigh Tonight?
by Layne Faire
Summary: For months, he'd watched him at the Laundromat, never figuring out how to start a conversation. The last thing he'd have expected was a pair of Santa boxer shorts would be all it'd take to break the ice. Slashy fluff and Christmas innuendo. Continued randomly, when the boys have something new to share.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Will You Drive My Sleigh Tonight?

**Author Penname: **Layne Faire

**Rating: **M+ for lemons of the slashy variety, language

**Summary: **For months, he'd watched him at the Laundromat, never figuring out how to start a conversation. The last thing he'd have expected was a pair of Santa boxer shorts would be all it'd take to break the ice.

**Warnings: **Slash, corny Christmas innuendo, and fluff.

**Banner Link: **on profile

**Banner Designer Name: **IllicitWriter

**Thanks to my wonderful beta, nails233, and the other third of our collective brain, butterflybetty. **

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight; I just put the boys in embarrassing situations and let them figure out how to get out of it. **

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><p><em><strong>Will You Drive My Sleigh Tonight? <strong>_

Gathering up the piles of dirty laundry, I shoved them into a couple of sea bags I'd bought at the thrift store. I could understand why the Navy issued them; they held way more shit than you'd have expected. I'd put the trip off too long, anyway. Once I'd been forced to dip into the stash of ridiculous boxer shorts my sisters bought me every holiday for a joke, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. Cursing the lack of a machine in my apartment, or the building, I hauled the bags down to my beat up Toyota, shoving them into the back seat. The laundromat was only a couple miles away, but I still considered it a giant pain in the ass to have to go through the routine every time wash day rolled around.

I'd moved into my apartment a little over five months ago. For the first month, I'd dragged the clothes back home, taking advantage of Mom's good nature and the promise of a Sunday meal every week. After one too many weeks of hearing about my lack of a social life, born witness to by the ever-present appearance of sweats and t-shirts in the dirty clothes; I began doing my own laundry, going home for dinner once a month, instead. I loved my family-don't get me wrong- but, between my sisters and my mom, everyone had a gay friend I "just had to meet." It's been easier to create mystery plans.

The wipers swished across the windshield, pushing the falling snow to accumulate near the side view mirrors, before falling away in iced clumps. Through the glistening flakes, the reminders of the season shone outward from the homes and businesses I passed. Decorated trees twinkled in the windows, covered in bright ornaments and shiny tinsel. Rooftops were outlined by lights chasing in a never-ending loop; a defined landing strip for the potential arrival of The Big Man and his sleigh. Even the laundromat had its holiday finery on; snowflakes and holiday messages were stenciled on the windows like some bizarre elven graffiti.

Pulling the bags from the car, I trudged into the building and dropped them in front of a machine, before returning to grab the box of supplies I kept in the trunk. The familiar smells of detergent and fabric softener assaulted my senses, causing a tickle in my nose. Christmas music blared from the stereo system that rested on the shelf behind the counter. The attendant nodded in acknowledgment of my arrival, but continued her conversation on the cell phone tucked against her ear.

One of the biggest bonuses to come out of my weekly trips to the laundromat had been the eye candy. The third time I'd been in-and every time since then-I'd been treated to the appearance of what I could only term as 'Sex on Legs'. The first time I'd seen him, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous arrived dragging a large wicker hamper behind him. Throwing an unsorted armful of clothes into the machine, he proceeded to strip out of the sweat-stained, fitted t-shirt he had on, adding it to the load. While it washed, he'd lounged in a corner booth, tapping away on his phone. Whether Texting or playing a video game - I didn't know, and I honestly didn't give a shit. His distraction allowed me to ogle him at will from my position a couple tables away, admiring the well defined six-pack abs, my fingers itching to trace the narrow 'V' of his hips where it dipped into his low-slung basketball shorts. By the fourth trip, I figured out he came in at the same time every week and I made it a point to schedule my own washing at the same time. On a few occasions-to my everlasting joy-the strip show had been repeated.

Somewhere around the start of the third month, I noticed him staring back on occasion. Still, we didn't speak. I'd sneak surreptitious peeks over the top of my laptop, turning away when he'd meet my gaze. I knew it'd be too much to hope that he might be gay, too. Not that it mattered. I didn't have the balls to talk to him, anyway. While I lived outside the closet, I still hadn't figured out how to approach someone on a casual basis. Being picked up in a dimly lit night club was a far cry from being able to initiate a conversation over the washing machines. So I watched, and fantasized that the eye-fucks were mutual.

Then, it happened. The reason why I'd missed a week of laundry, and why I'd contemplated changing my routine. While my three loads of laundry merrily danced behind the circular doors of the machines, I'd been scrambling to add the finishing touches to a last minute project for work. Distracted and focused on the piles of documents I'd been digging through for the information I needed, I missed his arrival. It wasn't until the timer sounded, and I stood to move the loads into the dryers, that I saw him. Stopping short, I'd been mesmerized by the way the blue sweater he wore deepened the color of his eyes, causing them to shine with a sapphire sparkle. Seeing my reaction, he'd lifted an eyebrow in response, shooting me an audacious wink that reverberated straight to my crotch. My dick jumped to attention, standing straighter than the Nutcracker Soldiers guarding either side of the entryway. Flustered, I'd flipped the loads, gathered up my work, and moved out of his line of sight to a table closer to the dryers.

For the next forty minutes, I'd struggled to focus on my work, my gaze drawn repeatedly to the man stretched out prone in the corner. He'd bent one leg, his foot on the bench and the other resting on the floor. The denim of his jeans pulled taut across the unfettered outline of the well-endowed cock shrouded inside. My focus on spreadsheets gave way to images of rumpled sheets. It took all I had in me not to drool when he'd shifted position, his hips thrusting into the air, before he settled his ass back down on the seat he'd reclined on. The buzzing of the dryer timers pulled me out of my voyeurism. Not even bothering to fold the clothes, I'd crammed them back into the empty bags, making a hasty retreat after I packed up my laptop. By the time I'd reached the door, he'd stood to check his own laundry, brushing his hand across my ass when he walked to the machine. I'd needed the extra week to figure out what the fuck to do next.

Looking around the empty room, I sighed. I'd deliberately arrived later than usual, thinking he'd be there before me. No such luck. With Christmas only a couple days away, he probably had better things to do than his laundry. Tossing the loads in the washers, I settled down with a book I'd wanted to read, castigating myself for missed opportunities. When the timer chimed, I laid the book on the table, pulling over a rolling cart to shift the loads to the dryers. Sliding my card, I started the machines, the rattle of the loads starting temporarily drowning out Elvis crooning _Blue Christmas._ I carried the box of laundry supplies out to the car, before returning to lose myself in the intricate crime drama unfolding on the pages of my book.

In no time at all, the buzzers sounded. Checking the loads, I pulled out what was dry, combining the still damp items into one machine, before restarting it. I pulled the laden cart over to one of the tables, absently folding each article of clothing, setting them into piles of like items. By the time I reached the last few pieces, the dryer sounded again. Dumping the clothes into the cart, I continued folding, then moved the finished piles to the sea bags.

I reached into the cart to grab the last handful, when I felt a tugging on the item in my hand. Looking over to see what it had snagged on, I was met by a pair of sapphire eyes. Standing even with my own six foot height, my eyes traveled the breadth of his chest, before returning to his face when he spoke to me.

"Yours?" His eyebrow quirked, holding up the Santa suit boxers.

Snatching them from him, I refused to respond. Folding them quickly, I shoved the last pile into the waiting bag before drawing it shut and setting it next to the one on the floor. We'd been there at the same time for months, never saying anything to each other, while I struggled for the right words to approach him. Now this? Cursing my sisters and their deplorable taste in gifts, I tried not to meet his eyes, certain I'd see mocking amusement reflected in their depths.

"You didn't answer me," he pressed, moving close enough for me to feel the body heat radiating off him. The smell of peppermint and cocoa surrounded him, undercut by a subtle earthy musk I wanted to drown in. "Are they yours, or do they belong to your own Santa?"

Swallowing hard, I fought the urge to lean into his warmth, instead forcing myself to take a step back.

"They're mine; a gag gift from my sisters last Christmas," I replied, preparing to leave before the situation became any more embarrassing.

Picking up one of the bags, I slung it over my shoulder, before wrapping my fist around the other. While common sense told me to get the hell out of there, unadulterated lust reared its head, screaming that I'd never get a chance like this again. Trying to heed the head with a brain, I turned to walk away, his next words stopping me in my tracks.

"Would you wear them for me?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper, innuendo dripping from each syllable. "I'd like to be Santa's helper. I've got the right tool for any job. Whatya say…Santa?" I felt him move closer, his hand pulling on the strap I'd settled on my shoulder.

Whirling around to face him again, needing to confirm he wasn't bullshitting me, I was stunned by the unbridled passion vibrating from him. Lust won out over common sense. What the hell, right? It's the holidays; I needed to live a little, just once. Sidling up against him, I brushed my thigh against the visible bulge pressing against the fly of his tailored slacks.

"I think I've got a position you can fill. Wanna drive my sleigh tonight?" The answering smirk, followed by a knowing nod gave me all the answer I needed. It was then I noticed the absence of his laundry. "No laundry tonight?"

"I came looking for you." Pulling the bag off my shoulder, he hefted it over his own. "You weren't here last week. I ended up sitting at my friends' Christmas party tonight, struggling to focus on the conversations around me. Instead, all I could think about was the shape of your ass inside your jeans when you bend into the washer to pull out your clothes."

The deep, dulcet tenor of his voice sent flares of heat through my body, my crotch tightening when his tongue teased the corner of his mouth before gliding across the deep curve of his bottom lip. Shifting my stance to adjust the uncomfortable tension, I resisted the urge to push my palm against my throbbing erection. Noticing my discomfort, he inclined his head toward the door.

"Let me take you home; I can show you my mistletoe and you can let me find the North Pole."

Walking past me, his hand grazed across my zipper, making the innuendo, though cheesy, quite clear. My dick twitched in response, sending a shiver up my spine. I put the other bag over my shoulder and followed him out to the parking lot. He stopped next to a gorgeous, ruby red Wrangler Unlimited parked next to my car, so new I could still smell the showroom on it. Offering a low appreciative whistle, I trailed my hands across the sleek shell.

"Hey, the owner likes to be stroked even more than the car does." Looking up, I received an audacious wink. Planning to dump the laundry bags in my car, my hand paused over the handle when he spoke again. "You can toss them in here and ride with me, if you want. I plan on keeping you busy all night, anyway; in and out of your sexy Santa suit."

My hesitation lasted less than a second, before I swung open the door he'd unlocked for me. I stowed my bag next to its companion that he'd tossed in the back seat. I hauled myself up into the Jeep to leave with a perfect stranger, which in itself was a testament to how much I wanted him, and how tired I was of having only my hand for company. The engine purred to life, his large hands moving the gearshift effortlessly through its paces, resting on the knob in between changes. Watching the wide palm wrap effortlessly around the sleek metal had a different knob twitching in anticipation. Stifling a groan, I shifted my legs in an attempt to adjust the not so little problem that arose when I first saw him holding my boxers.

The roads were covered in ice and slush, the plows unable to stay ahead of the snow that had been falling steadily all day long. Few people had been foolish enough to brave the elements, leaving the streets devoid of traffic. A little ice and snow wouldn't deter him from reaching his destination, though. Turning on the fog lights to offer him a beacon against the storm, he tackled the roads, the Jeep sliding through intersections and jumping over the ruts created by the uneven removal swaths of the plows. The wood I'd been sporting at the laundromat disappeared, while my nuts attempted to crawl up my ass in fear. Wrapping a hand around the handle above the door, I clenched the edge of the seat with the other. Don't get me wrong, the shit was fun, but more in the, 'Oh shit I'm gonna die' range of fun. Skidding sideways into an almost empty parking lot, he whipped the steering wheel, sending the Jeep into a couple of donuts on the ice, before sliding neatly into an empty space. Patting the dashboard, he spoke to his car.

"Way to go, Rudolph!"

Seriously? Did he just call the truck Rudolph? What the hell had I gotten myself into? Momma always warned me about picking up strangers. The one time I don't listen to her. . .

Resting his folded arms across the steering wheel, he looked over at me, noticing my clenched fists. "Second thoughts?"

"Wha. . . huh?" Dazed by his take on Monster Truck Madness, it took me a minute to focus on his question, too consumed with my own. "Oh, uhm, no. Just wasn't sure we'd make it here alive." I opened the door, a blast of cold air knifing through my leather jacket. We both opened the doors to the back at the same time to grab the bags inside. He smiled broadly at me across the backseat; his vibrant blue eyes alight with mischief.

"No need to worry about that; I'd never put Santa in jeopardy. I've been waiting far too long to sit on his lap and discuss whatever pops up. Besides, I want to show him just what a good boy I can be."

Another wink. Yeah, Momma said what?

_TWITCH_

Well, the cold certainly wasn't affecting one part of my anatomy. With our heads tilted down against the frigid wind and blowing snow, we slipped and slid our way across the parking lot, both laughing at the other when we'd have to flail to keep our balance. Neither of us were small guys, both well over six feet, so we knew we must look ridiculous. When he once again missed his footing, falling into one of the holly bushes that lined the curb, I couldn't help myself. Skidding to a stop, I dropped the bag in my hand to hold my sides, while large guffaws escaped me. The stinging wind and snow brought tears to my eyes, the moisture freezing on my cheeks, but still I laughed. It wasn't until a large snowball nailed me dead center in my chest that I stopped, stunned.

"What the fuck?"

I scrambled for a hill of snow that had been mounded up by the plows on one of their few passes through the lot. Scooping up a handful of snow - and ignoring the stinging cold on my gloveless fingers - I whirled on one foot, letting the snowball fly as I fell ass first into the pile. Spluttering, I heaved myself up, his answering roar of laughter followed by a muffled "Hey!" confirming I'd hit my target. The war was on. Snowballs flew back and forth across the lot with deadly accuracy, until soaking wet and frozen, we both called truce. Dripping slush and ice, we walked through the lobby to the bank of elevators. The steel doors slid shut at the touch of a button before I found myself pressed against the wall. Muscular thighs trapped mine, his erection just as eager as my own.

"Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" I smirked against his mouth, my lips parting with a moan when he ground against me.

"More like an all night sucker," he retorted, his tongue sliding across my bottom lip before entering my waiting mouth.

Warm mint and whiskey filled my senses again, his taste making me hungry for more of him. With my head swimming from the raging hormones careening through my body, I didn't hear the elevator chime or the door open. Instead, a woman's shocked gasp had my new friend looking over his shoulder.

"Good evening, Mrs. Cope," he greeted her, snatching up one of my bags, then grabbing my hand to drag me out of the elevator. "I hope you and Mr. Cope have a Merry Christmas."

Her cheery, "You too, dear" drifted behind us, bringing on another round of laughter.

We tumbled through his door as soon as he opened it; the bags dropped out of the way, jackets were being tugged and stripped off in a flurry of hands, and mouths seeking each other. My frozen fingers fumbled with the hem of his sweater and I heaved a sigh of relief when he pulled it over his head. Groaning at the sight of his damp under shirt molded to the solid wall of his chest, my fingers trailed down the soft cotton, chucking at his intake of breath when I grazed across a stomach so taut pennies would bounce off it.

"Why, Santa, I do believe you are improperly packaged," he offered with a grin, deep dimples flashing in his cheeks, while his deft fingers flipped open the button on my jeans. "Let's see if we can wrap you up in something a bit more appropriate."

Dragging my faded, navy blue sweatshirt over my head, I tossed it to the side. Despite the warmth in the room, I sucked in a surfeit of air at the feel of his chilled fingers against the warm skin of my stomach. Catching his face between my hands, I captured his mouth again. Tongues seeking, sliding, and tasting, I allowed him to walk me backward down the hall, not caring where we were headed, so long as we both ended up naked. I felt relief when he pulled down the tab of my zipper, then nipped his lip when his fingers eased inside to wrap around my hard shaft. My backward motion was brought up short by my back pressed against a door.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, shoving my jeans down my legs, then grasping me with his quickly warming hand. He gave two quick strokes, his tongue snaking out to catch the beads of moisture gathering on my reddened tip. Running his tongue around the glans, he dipped it into the slit, while his hands continued their exploration of the rest of my body. Twisting my fingers in his dark hair, I fought the urge to thrust into the warmth that enveloped my aching flesh.

"Ungh . . . so fucking good . . . yeah, just like that." Words tumbled from my mouth, incoherent and coupled with moans and curses, my voice growing louder when his cheeks hollowed around me and his mouth sunk to my base.

Feeling his throat swallow around my head almost did me in. Tightening my grip in his hair, I eased him back, another coil of lust slamming me in the gut when he looked up at me, his blue eyes on fire. Releasing me with a pop, he continued to stroke me, his palm twisting across my head, saliva and cum slicking his grip. His other hand tangled through the trimmed path of curls on my abdomen, before he brushed his thumb across my right nipple. It jumped to attention as readily as my dick had. His hands were everywhere at once, his mouth once again working down my length, while his fingers dug into my ass and pulled my hips forward, encouraging me to fuck his mouth. I thrust into him, my hips moving of their own volition, all control surrendered to the unparalleled need. My head slammed back into the door, my legs quivering to hold me upright, while my sac drew up tight to my body. It'd been too long, I'd never last.

"Fuck, I-I'm gonna come," I warned.

He obviously didn't care. Taking me all the way in again, he swallowed hard, and I lost the thin grip I had on my control. Bucking forward, I coated his throat with long, pulsing spurts, my knees shaking with each pull of his cheeks around my throbbing cock. I pulled on his hair, stilling the movements of his head. He swirled his tongue around me instead, sliding it up and down the underside of my shaft and drawing every drop out of me. When my vision cleared, I loosened my grip on his hair, allowing him to pull off my softening cock. In one fluid motion, almost inconceivable in a man his size, he was back on his feet, his mouth teasing a path back to mine. Moaning at the taste of my own release on his tongue, I welcomed his kiss, my breathing still ragged. His hands ran up my torso, leaving goose pimples in their wake.

"You're half frozen," he murmured against my lips.

Despite my protests to the contrary, a violent shiver shook me, followed by a sneeze. "Sorry. Maybe I'm a bit cold, but you're doing a good job of keeping me warm. Besides," I traced a circle around the hardened nipple that pushed against his t-shirt, "you still haven't shown me where the mistletoe is."

Before he could reply, his stomach rumbled, followed by an answering one from my own. We both looked at each other, embarrassment in both our eyes, followed by joint laughter filling the narrow hallway. He rubbed his still semi-erect cock against my leg then stepped back with a sigh.

"This can wait, we have all night. The roads are almost impassable, anyway. How about you take a shower and warm up, while I get us something to eat. It's only fair, I started the snowball fight." When I opened my mouth to ask him to join me, he placed a finger over my lips. "Hold that thought. I know what you're going to say, and to be honest, we'll never eat if I do. With what I have planned, you're going to need all the energy you can get."

My cheeks flushed under their natural tan. "I need to grab some clothes out of my bag."

"There's only one thing you need out of your sack, Santa." Pulling me against him, he reached down to open the door I'd been leaning on. Tracing the shell of my ear with his tongue, he whispered, "I'll get them for you." Turning me around, he gave me a light push into the bathroom, "Go. I'll put what you need on the counter."

**xxx-Sleigh Ride-xxx**

Stepping out of the shower fifteen minutes later, I found he'd been true to his word. Piled on the counter were clean towels, a wrapped toothbrush, and topping the pile, the damned boxer shorts. _Well, they're what got you here, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. _I dried off quickly, then wrapped a towel around my waist while I brushed my teeth. Raking my fingers through my short, shaggy, hair, I returned it to some semblance of order, before dropping the towel to step into the boxer shorts. He'd added an undershirt to the pile, which I gratefully pulled over my head. Maybe I could sneak into a pair of sweats when I got out to the living room. Pulling my wallet out of my jeans, I laid the wet clothes over the shower rod to dry before going to find my host.

It wasn't hard to do. The smell of butter and garlic drifted down the hall, so I followed it out to the kitchen. He stood with his back to me, his dress slacks gone, replaced by a pair of low slung sweat pants and a dry T-shirt that stretched across the well-defined muscles of his back Stopping in the arched opening, I admired the rippling movement under the white cotton, the muscles bunching and releasing with each movement of his arms. Sensing my presence, he gestured toward the refrigerator.

"There's beer, if you want, or some soda. Help yourself."

I pulled open the door and removed a beer then asked if he wanted one. He declined, pointing the knife in his hand to the bottle sitting on the counter in front of him. Closing the door, I braced myself against it, enjoying the view while he continued cooking. He stirred a sauté pan, while a pot bubbled merrily on the back of the stove.

"It smells delicious, whatever it is."

"Just something quick. Can you eat shellfish? I probably should have asked before I started cooking."

Assuring him it was fine, I asked if there was anything I could do to help. He shook his head then pulled a package of shrimp out of the freezer. Dumping it in with the butter and garlic, he gave it all a quick stir, before turning to face me. He lifted his beer to his lips, his eyes bright over the top of the bottle when he saw the boxer shorts. Taking a swallow, he eyed me up and down. Warming under his perusal, I cleared my throat, willing my dick to keep its head down. It answered with a twitch-traitorous bastard.

"I must say, they look even better than I could have imagined." His dimples appeared again with his smile. "They fit perfectly in all the right places." He took a step closer, his fingers inching toward the white trim. "I wonder. . ."

His train of thought was interrupted by a snapping sizzle from the stove. Returning his attention to the pots, he flipped off the control knobs, sliding the pots to the cool burners. He stirred the shrimp again, then picked up the saucepan to drain the linguini he'd prepared. Setting the steaming colander on top of the saucepan, he pulled plates and silverware out and dished out a plate for each of us. After setting them to the side, he grabbed a towel and opened the oven, juggling a hot loaf of bread onto a cutting board. He shook his hand, cursing his burnt fingers. Without a word, I took his hand and raised it to my mouth, tracing my tongue across each reddened welt. Sapphire turned to midnight, his eyes darkening, while a low growl escaped his chest. I smirked, feeling his pulse race under my thumb. Two could play his game. I turned on the sink, bringing his hand under the cold stream.

"I think I preferred your first treatment," he whispered, his breath leaving him in husky rasps.

"So I can tell," I replied, seeing the evidence stirring in the sweats that left nothing to the imagination. "We should probably eat, before everything gets cold."

Settling at the table, we shared personal histories while we ate. I admired his apartment, commenting on the Christmas decorations. I had a small tree and a line of cards over the door, but had managed to resist my mom's efforts to add more. Not only did he have a large tree in the corner of the room, themed in red and gold, other coordinating touches had been added in every room. He told me his mom had been out to visit for Thanksgiving and had done it all then, and that left to his own devices, the tree probably wouldn't have even been there.

Our plates sat empty next to us while we continued to talk, the snowfall becoming heavier outside while the city slipped into slumber under its blanketing cover. It wasn't until I heard the faint ring of my phone that I realized the time. Excusing myself, I followed the sound to the hallway, where he'd hung my jacket on a coat rack by the front door. I dug it out of my pocket, recognizing the ringtone I'd assigned my mother. Flipping it open in time to prevent the call from going to voicemail, I wandered back toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom. You guys doing okay out at the house?"

"_I was just calling to ask you the same. You're getting it worse than we are. I hope you have everything you need. You don't need to be driving in this mess." _

"I'm fine." I watched him clear the table, my mouth watering at the sight of another pair of dimples at the top of his ass, just visible where the sweats had slipped a bit lower. "I can handle it if I need to go out," he turned to look at me, tilting his head to the side, "but, I have a feeling I'll be staying put right where I am."

I was treated to a flash of dimples again, when his lips lifted in a smile. Setting the plates in the sink, he walked over to where I stood, leaning close to whisper in my other ear, "You can count on it." Distracted by his hand sliding under my shirt, I uh-huhed and hmmmed my way through her next couple sentences.

"_Okay, dear. It sounds like you're busy. I'll give you a call in the morning to check on you." _

He snorted in my shoulder, whispering low enough he wouldn't be overheard, "She has no idea how busy you'll be."

I tried not to laugh out loud. She'd only want to know what was so funny, and I wasn't ready to tell my mom I'd been picked up at the laundromat. There were some things I'd prefer to keep to myself, at least for a little while. Instead, I placed a finger over his lips, stifling a moan when he pulled it into his mouth.

"Uhm, no, Mom, that's fine. I'm probably going to sleep in tomorrow. I'll call you when I get up. Love you. Bye." I clicked the phone shut, not giving her a chance to answer.

The phone clattered to the floor, my hands grabbing his waist when he released my finger, turning his attention to my mouth. His thumbs teased across my nipples, bringing them to attention under his touch. Moving my fingers, I trailed them across the small divots I'd glimpsed minutes before, while pulling his hips against mine. The velvety fabric of my boxers only heightened the sensation of him rubbing against me. Our dicks sprang to life, wanting to get in on the festivities. Our tongues slid over, under, and around each other, tasting and teasing in a relentless game of hide and go seek. Pulling away to catch his breath, he pulled his hands from under my shirt and reached to grasp mine.

"C'mon." He tugged my hand, drawing me behind him into the living room. The twinkling tree lights were the only illumination other than the moon struggling to peek through the heavy clouds. Dropping to his knees near the tree, he pulled me down next to him then straddled my lap once I'd settled myself on the floor.

"So, Santa," he began, pausing to kiss me again, "ready to see what a good boy I am?" He emphasized his words with a roll of his hips, pressing our straining cocks together.

"Good boy? Oh no, I think you've been a very naughty boy. You're going to have to convince Santa you deserve to be on the nice list."

"Is that so?" He tugged my t-shirt over my head, following it with his own. "I wonder what I can do to persuade you of my good intentions."

Nipping along my jaw line, he reached my throat, his lips gliding across my Adam's apple, before reaching the crook of my neck. Letting my head fall back, I traversed the planes of his back, enjoying the play of muscle under my hands with his every movement. When his mouth centered on my nipple, I arched into it, digging my fingers into his skin. My hips thrust against his seeking more friction while I tried to focus on the fingers easing under the elastic waist of my boxers.

"I'd say you're off to a good start. Just…unh… I…"

My train of thought derailed when his mouth followed the trail of hair leading south. Pushing my hands into the back of his sweats, I shoved them down his thighs when he lifted his body away from mine. Stripping them off, I knelt in front of him, returning my attention to the tapered angles of his stomach, my fingers tracing the narrow 'V' of his hips until I reached the thatch of trimmed curls at the base of his shaft. Wrapping one hand around his long, uncut cock, I stroked his length, mesmerized by the reddened tip emerging from the cowl surrounding it. Pushing him to his back on the floor, I settled myself next to his hips.

Leaning over him, I ran my tongue across the glistening knob, gathering the beads of moisture that accumulated with each upward stroke. Working my tongue underneath the cowl, I stroked the tip, tracing the frenulum, before lifting the shaft to dedicate my attention to the underside. Reaching the base, my hand continued to stroke him while I leaned further across him to push my mouth over the head.

He grabbed the back of my hair with one hand, the other reaching over to push the elastic of my shorts under my balls. His fingers teased the sensitive skin, before wrapping around me to apply long, slow strokes to my dick. Humming around him in appreciation, I bobbed my head, allowing him to slide deeper into my mouth on each stroke. When he nudged the back of my tongue, I relaxed my throat, swallowing around him. The weight of my arm across his hips kept him from thrusting up, but he shifted underneath me, a litany of curses falling from his lips, interspersed with my name, Jesus, and God. I didn't care who he called on, so long as he kept touching me. Every so often, he twisted his wrist to swipe across the head, the moisture slicking his hand and keeping the strokes smooth. Rocking my hips into his fist, I hollowed my cheeks around his cock, drawing deep with each stroke of my mouth. My tongue massaged the underside of his shaft, swirling around the head, and back down again. Meanwhile, my free hand stroked his balls, feeling the tell-tale tightening that signaled his impending orgasm.

"Fuck! Your mouth…ungh…I…that's it, babe. So fucking hot, so good." He bent his knees, forcing me to lean up and over him in order to keep his hips still and stay in control. "Uh…so close. Look at me, babe," he pleaded with me, all thoughts of my dick gone while he braced himself on his elbows to watch my mouth at work. "Gonna …yeah … like that. Gonna come…wanna watch you swallow me," he spoke in broken sentences, each pause punctuated by heaving breaths and his ass lifting up off the carpet. Suddenly, his thighs tensed up, his hand pulling my hair, and his dick pulsing to release warm streams of cum into my welcoming throat.

"Fuck!" the word left him in a drawn out shout, his body jerking with each burst that filled my mouth before collapsing to the floor. I continued to swallow; my lips and tongue milked him until he began to soften.

Releasing him with a soft pop, I knelt back, one hand still languidly stroking him, while I smugly watched him struggle to regain his composure. Once he had control of himself he reached for me, pulling me down to capture my mouth again. Returning his hand to my cock, he began stroking again, bringing it back to full arousal. The confident, sure strokes had me writhing against him in no time. Rolling me onto my back, he moved between my legs, lifting them over his shoulders to bring me closer to heaven. Wrapping his lips around my sac, he drew first one, then the other nut into his mouth, sucking them until they pulled tight to my body. The whole time, he continued to stroke my aching dick, moisture running down to coat his fingers. Moving his hand to the base, his mouth enveloped me again, his teeth grazing my skin in delicious torment, while his other hand supported my ass, ensuring I was completely at his mercy. Unable to reach his hair, I fisted my hands in my own; mewling whimpers were the only sound I could produce. His hand and mouth stroked me in unison, bringing me to the edge, then backing off, before building the tension even higher. I couldn't think, couldn't speak, I could only stand at the precipice, incoherently begging him to push me over the edge.

Then he did.

The tightening coil inside me shattered. Spots of light appeared behind my lids when my eyes rolled back in my head, the blood rushing through my body with the force of the bullet unleashed from its chamber. He greedily devoured the fountain that filled his mouth, licking and sucking his way back to the tip, ensuring he left nothing behind. Releasing my hips, he allowed my legs to slide to the floor, before pulling himself up to lie next to me. Our mouths met over and over, the slow tenderness allowing our heart rates to return to normal.

Pushing a strand of hair off my forehead, he asked, "So, am I off the naughty list?"

Laughing, my eyes drifting closed in exhaustion, I replied, "Oh no, you're right at the top of it. However, I think Santa's re-evaluating his criteria; the naughty list may be the way to go."

He chuckled, his head sinking onto my shoulder. I must have dozed off. I woke to him gently shaking me, asking if I wanted to move to the bed. We both staggered to our feet and I followed him down the hall. Naked, we both crawled under the sheets, with him sliding up behind me, pulling my body back to him while he molded his around me. Sleep over took us both.

**xxx-Sleigh Ride-xxx**

Waking the next morning, I blinked against the blinding sunlight reflected off the cover of white that shrouded the city, snow still falling in thick puffs. Memories of the night before returned, and I slid deeper under the covers, seeking out the warmth that had cradled me all night, but the bed was empty. The low hum of the radio filtered down the hall accompanied by the smell of coffee and frying bacon. Sitting up, I saw my bags sitting near the door. Digging through them, I found fresh underwear, clean socks, lounge pants, and a t-shirt. I pulled on the clothes, then rifled through for a hoodie I knew rested near the bottom of one bag. Stopping in the bathroom, I took a piss, washed my hands, and brushed my teeth before joining him in the kitchen. An electric griddle sat on the counter next to the stove covered in perfect circles of batter waiting to be flipped. He smiled when I entered the room.

"Good morning! Sleep well?" He motioned to the coffee pot. "Coffee's ready, breakfast will be in about five minutes."

With a grateful smile, I filled the empty cup on the counter, my hands wrapping around the cup to absorb its warmth. Taking a drink of the liquid gold, I let it refresh me, clearing out the remaining cobwebs that fogged my mind.

"It's still snowing." _Way to go Captain Obvious._

"Yeah, the whole city is shut down except for emergency personnel. The weatherman said the snow will probably continue all day, maybe tapering off late tonight." He lifted the bacon to a plate covered in paper towels to drain, then flipped the pancakes to finish cooking. "My flight's been cancelled, and the airlines said that there's no hope of catching another one until after Christmas. I already called my mom to let her know I won't be home."

"That sucks that you can't go home for Christmas." Pulling the clean dishes from the drain rack where they rested, I dried them off, then set them on the table. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, I have friends in town that I can mooch off of." He pulled a plate from the oven, adding the pancakes to the pile he'd already finished, before turning off the griddle. "Ready to eat?"

"Yeah, looks delicious." I joined him at the table, accepting the platter and dropping several pancakes on my plate. "Look, I don't want to seem like I'm pushing things, but would you like to join my family for Christmas?"

"Really?" At my silent nod, he agreed, before asking, "But wait, how are you going to get home? I can probably get you to your car tomorrow morning, but I doubt you'll make it out of the city safely."

"Well, I'm sure they'll get the roads cleared once the snow stops. Besides, if you're coming with me, we could always take the Jeep, it should have no problems, no matter how bad the road conditions are."

He swallowed his mouthful of food before answering, "Yeah, that works. But, first, you need to call your mom and make sure it's okay. I don't want to impose."

"Are you kidding?" I laughed. "My mother will be ecstatic that I'm bringing someone home. But, if it will make you feel better, I'll call her after I clean up from breakfast."

The rest of the meal was spent in pleasant conversation, while we got to know a little more about each other. We shared similar interests in movies, were both addicted to video games, and both liked to tinker with cars. Once we finished eating, I insisted on washing dishes.

"It's only fair," I argued. "You've fed me twice, and you're going to be stuck with me all day. The least I can do is dishes."

"I'd hardly call it stuck; I enjoy your company. It's just a shame I didn't approach you before yesterday. We could have done this a lot sooner."

I ducked my head to hide the flush on my cheeks. He wasn't the only one wishing it had happened sooner. The past didn't matter, though. We were both here now.

After I finished the dishes, I pulled out my phone to call my mom. He made himself scarce, leaving me to talk to her in private. As expected, she squealed when I asked if I could bring someone home with me for dinner, demanding to know all the details. I tried to slow her roll by saying he was a friend who'd been trapped because of the storm, but in typical Mom fashion, she read right through it. She settled for basic details, then told me she couldn't wait to see us the next day and meet him. Rolling my eyes, I hung up the phone knowing that she'd speed dialed and conference called my sisters the minute our call ended. Hell, she'd probably already picked out china. Sinking into the sofa, I yawned, smiling when he joined me.

"It's all set. She expects us at the house at noon. I'll warn you ahead of time, she can be a bit-intense."

"Aren't they all?" He grinned. "Well, we have the entire day ahead of us and no place to go. Whatever shall we do?"

A pregnant silence filled the room, loaded with promise. We looked at each other, our eyebrows quirking at the same time.

"Well, there's only two of us, so Naked Twister is out. Maybe we should discuss the naughty list further," I offered.

Faster than I could blink, I found myself flat on the sofa, our hands and mouths everywhere at once. The rest of the day passed in kisses and touches, in sighs and moans, in "please, yes" and "right there, again." By the time we surfaced to eat later on that evening, we'd explored every inch of each other, on every possible surface, some of it with comedic results. _Let's not discuss the broken coffee table._ We fell into bed late, our bodies sated in more ways than one.

The next day dawned clear and we woke early to make the two hour drive home. Stopping at the laundromat, we picked up my car to take it back to my apartment, where we loaded my family's gifts into the Jeep. Despite my assurances that it wasn't necessary, he'd managed to put together small gifts for my family from him, too. The roads were still rough in places, making me grateful we had the Jeep to make the trip. I'd have never made it home, otherwise. Turning into the narrow driveway I directed him to, he reached for my hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

"Nervous?"

"Just a bit. You have to admit, it's a little unorthodox to meet your family already, even though I feel like I've known you for months." He parked behind Mom's Durango, turning to face me. "If it's okay with you, though, I plan on being around, so what the hell, right? Might as well not forestall the inevitable." The dimples returned with his smile, followed by another one of his winks.

_TWITCH_

Yeah, I didn't have a problem with him sticking around. Loaded with packages, he followed me to the door. Letting myself into the house, I could hear them all in the kitchen. Calling out a greeting, I led him into the living room to deposit the gifts around the tree. When we finished, I took his hand and gave it a squeeze, then turned to the doorway to face the onslaught.

My mom hurried into the room, rushing across to where we stood. Throwing her arms around my neck, she kissed my cheek. "Jake! It's about time you got here. We were getting worried." Stepping back, she extended her hand to the man standing next to me. "And you must be Emmett. I'm Sarah Black. We're so glad you could join us for Christmas."

* * *

><p><strong><em>As one of the organizers of the Toys4Tots Christmas Wishes compilation, I can't express my thanks enough to the 30+ authors who donated their time and talents to this worth cause. We raised $750 in donations to help the Toys4Tots organization continue their efforts to ensure every child experiences the joy of receiving a gift from Santa on Christmas. We will be running the campaign again this year and have already received confirmations from many authors who will be joining us again. I hope you will consider it for your donations this coming winter. I will make sure the information is available on my profile for anyone who is interested.<em> **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Late last week, I was attacked by a plot bunny that wouldn't go away. In between working on updates for Lost Highway, fielding phone calls for a niece in labor, and taking care of my sick kids, I managed to squeeze this out, though not as quickly as I'd hoped to get it up in time for Valentine's Day. **_

_**To all those who loved the pairing from my Christmas one-shot, here's their story, continued—at least for now. This isn't beta'd, so all mistakes are mine and I freely own them. I don't own Emmett and Jake, but the idea of them together causes delightful shivers down my spine.**_

_**This is especially for harrytwifan, who is a wonderfully supportive friend, awesome porn dealer, and all around fantabulous person. Here's your fun-loving big guys again, babe. Love you bunches, darlin'!**_

* * *

><p>It's been almost seven weeks since I brought Jake home from the Laundromat. Seven weeks since a pair of Santa boxer shorts gave me the icebreaker I needed to talk to the shy, muscular, dark-haired man I'd been watching for months.<p>

Really, my even being at the Laundromat had been complete coincidence—or maybe it was fate. The washer in my condo had been on the fritz for the better part of two weeks by the time I gave up and bought a new one. While the machine I wanted was in stock, they couldn't get me on the delivery schedule for another few days. Resigned to my fate, I'd packed up my laundry and loaded it in the Jeep, then met Riley for our weekly pick-up game.

SR-SR-SR-SR

Riley and I had met through mutual friends at a Bulls game. He'd recently moved to the area, after a nasty break-up with his ex, Victoria, and was looking to make some friends in his new home. It had been iffy at first, with both of us feeling like they were trying to set us up, even though Riley clearly wasn't interested. We soon realized we shared a lot of common interests and became friends. My being gay didn't bother Riley, and he wasn't my type, so sexual attraction never became a sticking point between us.

When Riley decided to volunteer with Big Brothers, he asked me if I wanted to join him. Having grown up the only son of a single mom, I knew how valuable a steady male influence could be in a boy's life. My only reservation was the possible objections to my being homosexual. The program desperately needed volunteers, though. They said so long as the boy's parent didn't care, they didn't have a problem with it. It took a few tries, but I'd finally been paired up with Ben, an adorable ten year old kid whose dad had walked out on his mom for a secretary at his office. Jane, Ben's mom, had no problems with my orientation; her own brother was gay. Unfortunately, he lived in New Hampshire, so they didn't see him very often.

Riley and I planned activities for the boys to do together, allowing them to also form a tight friendship in the process. They attended the same school and never even realized it. The weekly basketball game rose out of that when both boys decided they wanted to try out for the community league. It was on the way home from one of those games that I stopped at the first Laundromat I passed, and saw Jake for the first time. Even after my new machine was delivered, I couldn't stop going back, hoping for any sign that he might be interested. Finally, after almost four months of frustrating attempts to get his attention and gauge a response, I became bolder.

He'd had his head buried in his laptop when I arrived, so I took advantage of the opportunity, drinking him in like a tall glass of sweet tea in the summertime. When the timer on his machines sounded, he'd stood, appearing surprised to see me sitting across the room. He'd stopped short, while his eyes raked over me like a starving man handed a cheeseburger. Noting his interest, I lifted my eyebrow in question, smiled, and winked. Flustered, he rushed to take care of the clothes, shoving them into the dryers, then returning back to his laptop. I stretched out on the bench, resting one foot on the floor to give my semi room to breathe, and watched him play peek-a-boo over the top of his laptop, his face flushing with whatever thoughts occupied his mind. Given the fact that his eyes kept drifting to my crotch, I figured they were along the same lines as the ones I'd been self-servicing to for weeks. I mentally fist pumped the air, then plotted my next move.

Jake had almost jumped out of his skin when the dryers sounded. He didn't bother folding the clothes, cramming them in the big sea bags he dragged into the Laundromat every week. Seeing my opportunity slipping away, I'd been grateful when my own machines finished. Walking past him while he hurried toward the door, I'd brushed my hand across his ass, expecting him to whirl on me with indignation or an invitation. Either would have been preferable to the stalemate we'd been at. Instead, he'd hightailed it out of the building and not shown up the following week.

Miserable, thinking I'd scared him off, I sullenly stayed and did my laundry anyway, hoping he might make an appearance. I'd dragged out the process for the better part of three hours before finally giving up and going home, dejected. The evening had been a total waste of time, even more so since I'd finally found the balls to talk to him, too.

Riley's Christmas party was the following weekend and he'd insisted it was time I stop fucking around and talk to the mystery man that had me in knots, suggesting I invite him to the party. When I showed up at the party alone, he'd torn me a new ass, leaving me sulking in the corner. The third time I checked my watch he shoved me out the door, telling me he didn't want to talk to me again until I'd gotten laid.

Finding Jake at the Laundromat had been pure luck; he should have been done and gone by the time I got there. I'd walked up behind him, hoping to catch him unawares. When I spied the boxer shorts in his basket, I couldn't resist the opening line it gave me, even if it was cheesy as fuck. It worked, though. I ended up not talking to Riley again until New Year's Day. By then, I'd thoroughly fucked Jake on every available surface in my apartment, some of them twice.

SR-SR-SR-SR

Sitting at my desk, I stared distractedly out the window at the snow-covered cityscape. There'd been another snowstorm the night before, forcing Jake to stay at his place. I'd missed having him in bed next to me when I woke up, even more than I'd missed our morning sexcapades. Since Christmas, we'd only spent a total of five nights apart, when I'd finally been able to catch a flight home to visit my mother. Being with him felt natural, as simple as breathing; I couldn't remember any relationship I'd ever been happier in. That was why I'd made the purchase I did at lunch time.

Valentine's Day was less than a week away. I'd wracked my brain, trying to come up with something tangible that would demonstrate to Jake how much he meant to me. Considering, then discarding an array of ideas, I ran the gamut of "traditional" gifts. I'd considered a watch, but he already had one he wore all the time; his sisters gave it to him when he graduated college. Chocolates were cliché. Or course, roses were, too, but that hadn't stopped me from ordering four and a half dozen to be delivered to him at work—one for each day we'd been together. Yeah, I'm a sentimental sap. Sue me. Either way, I'd still had the man of my dreams in my bed for almost two months. That beat any ridicule I'd be forced to endure.

I pulled out the little square box again, checking on the item tucked inside. Would he like it? Would he accept it? My hands began sweating at the thought. Lost in my nervous worries, I didn't hear Kate, my assistant, open the office door. When I didn't acknowledge her presence, she walked over to the desk, settling her butt on the corner and leaning in for a closer look.

"Hey, boss—whatcha got in the pretty little box? Is it a gift for Jake?" Nodding my head, I wordlessly handed it to her, waiting for her opinion. She whistled low, tilting the box to catch the reflection of the late afternoon sun, before handing it back to me. "That's a pretty big step. He means that much to you?"

"What's that line from _My Fair Lady_-I've grown accustomed to his face? When I get home and he's not there, it feels like something's missing. "

"Oh, you've got it bad." She stood, patting me on the arm before walking back to the door. "I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving a little early. The roads are getting really icy again; I'd rather not be on them when the rest of the idiots are leaving work, especially with the baby in the car."

I tucked the box back into my desk drawer, then looked at my watch before answering her. "You're fine Kate, go ahead and take off. I'm heading out in half an hour, anyway. If it hasn't made it to your desk by now, it can wait until tomorrow. Drive carefully."

Thirty minutes later found me dragging my overcoat on, while punching the elevator button. Once I stepped out into the parking garage, I paused to type out a quick text to Jake, letting him know I'd be at his apartment in 20 minutes to pick him up. It'd be worth getting up earlier to drop him off at work first, if it meant I'd have him with me that night.

Hauling myself up into the driver's seat, I chuckled when _I'm Too Sexy _ began playing. _Jake_. He'd programmed it as a teasing reminder of the first time he saw me at the Laundromat. Fastening my seatbelt, I pulled out my phone, need shooting through me at his reply.

_**Hurry**_. _**I missed U. I'm waiting.**_

True to his word, he was standing on the curb in front of the building when I rounded the corner. I'd barely stopped the Jeep before he had the door open. Cold wind swirled in around him, but I didn't notice the chill. He curled his hand behind my neck, pulling my head down to slant his mouth across mine. The empty feeling I'd lived with for the last day and half fled, replaced by the certainty that I'd made the right decision when I went shopping. Pulling away breathlessly, his bright smiling gleaming in his ruddy face, he whispered against my lips.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey yourself," I nudged his nose with mine, shivering from the chill the cold flesh sent through me. "You're freezing; let me turn up the heat."

"You already did," he laughed, pulling my hand into his lap.

I moaned at the feel of his erection straining against the tight jeans he'd changed into after work, then whimpered at the thought of having to move my hand to operate the gear shift.

"You're a fucking tease, you know that, right?" I groused, putting the Jeep into first and pulling back out onto the road.

"No I'm not. Tease would imply I'm going to leave you unsatisfied." His hand snaked into my lap, pressing against the tented crotch of my wool suit pants. "By now you should know, I always follow through. Now, I suggest you get us across town just as fast as legally possible, unless you want me to blow you in traffic."

When I hesitated at the stop sign, he shot me a look, his eyebrow lifting in question, while his fingers teased across the tab of my zipper.

"Don't give me that look. I'm weighing my options."

The sexual tension in the cab subsided a notch, replaced by Jake's momentary shock. While I'd been the one to make the first move when we met, Jake had quickly proved to be the more voyeuristic out of the two of us. He'd managed to push my self-control past its limits more times than I could count when we were out in public, like the time he'd caused me to jizz in my pants in the middle of dinner at Everest, one of my favorite restaurants. We'd barely made it out the door without my embarrassing myself in front of the maître-d.

Before he could react, I took off, weaving in and out of traffic, while mindful of the icy conditions. Jake no longer held on for dear life when I drove; he'd become immune to my dreams of NASCAR glory. Sliding into the parking lot, I spun into the first empty pace, letting out of a whoop of delight when I put the Jeep in park. Climbing out of the car, I met Jake at the back bumper and pulled his wide hand into mine, tucking them both in the pocket of my coat.

"Why won't you wear gloves? It's freezing out here," I chided, falling into a matching stride next to him.

"It's not that cold. Besides, it's fun to watch the look on your face when I slide my hands under your shirt, just like I plan to do the minute we step in the elevator."

He smiled wickedly, dragging me across the lobby to catch the empty car that had just discharged my elderly neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Cope. They smiled benevolently at us, wishing us a good night when we passed them. Given their age, I'd been surprised at their easy acceptance of my homosexuality, until I found out their only grandson was also gay. Shortly after I first moved into the building, they'd tried to introduce me to Garrett, only giving up when he met his partner, Seth.

No one else entered the elevator with us, a situation Jake took advantage of. By the time we reached our floor, he had me panting with want, eager to get him inside and naked. Opening the door, I let him walk through ahead of me, admiring the fit of his long sleeved black tee when he paused to hang up his jacket. After adding my overcoat in the closet, I followed him into the kitchen, where he already had the refrigerator door open.

"What do you want for dinner, Em?"

Tugging off my tie, I dropped it on the floor, shedding my suit jacket at the same time. Grabbing his hips, I pulled him back against my throbbing erection, while growling low into his neck when he straightened up to press against me.

"You…naked…on the counter, for starters," I replied, my hands already fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. Once I had the fly open, I shoved my hand inside to wrap around his burnished length, unhindered by his lack of underwear. "Seems you need to do laundry again, babe," I teased, my fingers moving up and down his shaft when I pulled him free of the constraining fabric.

"Or maybe, after sleeping alone last night, I didn't want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary," he panted, thrusting into my fist.

His hand reached back between us, fumbling with the narrow dress belt at my waist. Muttering a curse, he grabbed my wrist and spun around, his mouth clashing with mine in a fiery attack. Our teeth clicked against each other, tongues delving deeper to taste and explore. He pushed the smooth leather through the buckle, snaking it free from the belt loops in one vicious pull. Gasping for air, he leaned back so he could see to undo my trousers. At the first peek of the narrow, trimmed trail of dark hair on my abdomen, he groaned and fell to his knees, dragging the pants to my ankles in the process. I kicked them free, moaning when he pressed his mouth against the y-front of my black, sheer, fitted briefs. Jake's hot breath on my skin sent a coiling spark of anticipation to my groin.

"I missed this, too," he murmured, his mouth tracing the hard, thick length through the confining fabric.

My hands twisted in his shaggy black hair, encouraging him further. Jake readily complied, dragging his tongue across the damp spot covering the rounded head, before wrapping his full lips around it. The sliding friction of the wet fabric had my hips rolling against his face. He slid his hands up the lightly furred skin of my thighs, my hamstrings bunching under his questing fingers. Reaching the edge of the fabric, he teased his fingers underneath, his blunt nails digging into my flexing glutes. The combined sensations of moist heat and kneading strength had me begging for more.

"Jake, I can't wait, babe. I have to be inside you. Now." My voice was ragged, pleading, while I clenched his rock hard biceps to pull him to his feet.

Finding the hem of his shirt, I jerked it over his head, tossing it to the side, before shoving his jeans of his narrow hips to ghost across the globes of his ass, my fingers teasing through his silky crack. Jake feverishly worked the buttons on my shirt, before becoming frustrated. Grabbing the parted collar, he jerked, buttons flying across the room to ping off the stainless steel appliances. Not bothering to remove it, he shoved my undershirt up, his lips and teeth seeking out the hardened bud of my nipple.

"Fuuccckkk!" I roared, my back arching to meet his questing mouth.

Jake's jeans slithered down his legs to pool at his ankles; he stepped on the hems to tug his feet free before pushing them aside. Walking him back to lean his ass against the counter, I grabbed his cock, my palm smearing the beads of moisture gathered at the slit down his shaft. My other hand cupped his head, his mouth returning to continue its assault on my chest. I ground my crotch into his thigh, desperate to get off. Stroking down to his base, I twisted my wrist to press my fingers against the smooth skin behind his balls. His legs wobbled, his entire body shivering in response.

"Lube," he gasped, lifting his mouth to nip the side of my neck. "Right back pocket of my jeans."

Reluctantly I released him to search for the discarded pants. Finding them, I dug into the pocket to find the travel packet he had there, along with a condom. He turned to lean over the counter, his round ass jutting in the air in invitation. The smoldering glance he sent me over his shoulder was far from teasing. He needed me as much as I needed him.

Tearing open the condom first, I rolled it down my throbbing shaft, almost wincing from the feel of the constricting sheath on my painful fullness. Then, ripping the strip off the top of the packet of lube, I squeezed a line onto my cock before applying the rest to Jake's tight hole. Rubbing my fingers through the viscous gel, I eased the first inch of my middle finger inside him. We both hissed at the feeling, Jake's head falling to rest on his folder arms while his hips pressed back into my hand. Working my finger around, then stroking in and out, I added a second one, pressing against the resistant ring of muscles. Jake relaxed, widening his stance, allowing me easier access.

While I prepped his ass, I stroked myself with my other hand until he begged me to take him. Pulling out my fingers, I spread his cheeks and slid the tip of my cock against him.

"Now who's fucking teasing?" he grumbled, wriggling himself closer until the head breached his opening.

"I'm not teasing, babe." I stroked circles on his back, rocking my hips forward to give him a little more on each thrust. "I plan on giving you all of it, hard and fast." A guttural moan rumbled in my throat when I was balls deep inside him.

Pulling back until only the head of my dick was cradled in his tight heat, I gripped his hips, bracing myself, then thrust my full length into him in one stroke. Jake pressed pack into me, his head lifting and his stomach arching into the edge of the cabinets.

"Yes…fuck…so full…more!" His chanted ramblings filled the room, punctuated by the slapping sounds of sweaty skin on skin.

Curling over him, I reached under his body, my hand fisting around his leaking cock. Pumping my fist over and under him, I erratically stroked, out of sync with the bruising thrusts of my hips. Jake braced one hand on the counter, wrapping his other around mine, mirroring my actions. I could feel his legs trembling under the force of my onslaught; both of us too close to give a shit. He clenched around me, warning me of his orgasm before he could voice it through gritted teeth.

"Fucking hell! I'm gonna come, Em," he growled, jizz covering our hands in hot bursts.

Letting him stroke himself, I gripped his hips with both hands, shouting at the tight heat clamping down on me, spurring my own release. Shuddering, I fucked him through my orgasm, collapsing against his sweat-slicked back when I couldn't stand anymore. His hand gripped my ass, holding me firmly lodged inside of him.

I ghosted my hands across his skin, soothing across the still tight muscles of his thighs, before wrapping my arms around his waist. Turning my head, I pressed a line of kisses down his spine, both of us struggling to catch our breath. He slapped my ass, causing me to lift my head to meet his laughing dark brown eyes.

"I missed you last night," I said, easing out with my hand on the base of the condom, before pulling him upright so I could reach his lips.

"So I can tell," he smirked, turning to accept my kiss. "Come on, let's get a shower and figure out dinner. I'm fucking starving."

SR-SR-SR-SR

The rest of the week and weekend flew by in a blur. By Monday, the day before Valentine's Day, I was more nervous than a two bit hooker at Sunday services. Kate had given up trying to reassure me that everything would be fine, instead offering exasperated looks every time I lost my train of thought in mid-conversation.

Tuesday morning, after Jake left for work, I set up the rest of my surprise for that night. When I arrived in the office, Kate was already at her desk, tied up in a phone conversation. She took one look at my face, and shaking her head wrapped up the call while I walked into my office. I stood, still in my coat, staring out the window at the sun-drenched city streets. While still cold, the sun had beat back the winter clouds to smile on Chicago's lovers. Kate huffed when she joined me, pulling out her Blackberry. Making an unprecedented executive decision, she cleared my calendar, shoving me out the door and telling me to go get a massage and calm the fuck down.

With nothing to do, I left the Jeep in the garage at the office and took to wandering aimlessly through the streets of downtown Chicago. Looking up to find myself across the street from Ford Field, I cut through the underground parking lot to the Field Museum on the other side. I wasted an hour drifting through the exhibits, not really looking at the beautiful artifacts on display, my mind consumed with my plans for the next day.

What if Jake thought the roses were ridiculous? Was the other gift too much, too soon? What if he said no? Hell, I hadn't even told him how I felt about him yet. Fuck! I wasn't even sure I knew how I felt, other than needing him all the time. Stopping by the coffee shop in the lobby, I picked up a cup to go. I exited the museum, finding a stone bench bathed in the late afternoon sunlight. Settling onto the warm concrete, I sipped my coffee, trying to collect my rampaging thoughts.

While I weighed each one, I did what I did best—created a mental list of pros and cons. With each new addition to the pro list, my nerves grew, as I realized the impact Jake had made on me in such a short period of time. In the midst of reevaluating my thoughts, my phone sounded, signaling a text from Kate. Pulling it out, I read the display.

**Stop thinking and admit it. Your life will be simpler. **

Grimacing, I tapped out a response to her to stay out of my head. Her return smiley face only added to my frustration. Ignoring it, I went back to my list, until I was interrupted again, this time by a phone call from my astute assistant.

"_I know what you're doing. Cut it out."_ When I tried to interrupt, she told me to shut up. Continuing, she went right for the jugular, not mincing words._ "Even if you can't see it, Em, everyone else can. You're in love with him. Stop trying to analyze it. Love is too abstract; it defies every rational convention or definition. It just is. The sooner you accept it, a huge weight will lift of your chest."_

"And if he says no?" I asked, rubbing my suddenly sweaty palm across my coat, knowing she was right. I did love Jake.

"_You'll survive it. But it's a moot point, anyway. Anyone who spends more than five minutes in the same room with you guys knows how you feel about each other, even Tanya and she's not even two yet. It'll be fine. When are the roses supposed to be delivered?"_

"Any time after noon. They couldn't promise an exact time, other than to say that all deliveries to businesses would be done before three in the afternoon."

"_Well, its pushing one, now. I'm sure he'll call you the minute they arrive. What about dinner?" _I knew she was trying to distract me and I was grateful for the effort.

"I pre-ordered takeout from Everest. They are supposed to deliver it to the condo between four and four-thirty. Jake gets off work at five, so I have plenty of time to finish everything up. But Kate, what if—?"

"_But nothing. Relax. Hold on a minute."_ I heard her talking to someone else, then she came back on. _"Hey, Boss, looks like your afternoon of leisure is over. You need to come back to the office, there's an issue with an account you need to take care of. I'll see you when you get here." _She hung up without another word.

Muttering under my breath, I dumped the half full, cold cup of coffee in a trash bin and rushed the five blocks back to the office. When I stepped off the elevator, Gianna, the receptionist smiled, welcoming me back, before picking up a ringing phone. Tossing a casual wave over my shoulder, I hurried past her desk to the narrow hallway that led to the executive offices. Several women were clustered around Kate's cubicle, admiring a large bouquet that sat proudly in the middle of it. Seeing me approach, they all drifted away, but none of them going too far.

"I'll grab the information and meet you in your office," Kate said, pointing across the hall, while she dug into her file cabinet. I shrugged off my coat, hoping the work would distract me enough to make it through the next few hours. Opening the door, I was greeted by the broad, naked expanse of a familiar tanned back standing in the middle of the room, holding a huge cluster of red, white, and shiny silver Mylar heart shaped-balloons. My eyes drifted lower, praying he wasn't completely naked, to find him clad in a pair of white boxer shorts covered in red hearts. Hearing my shocked gasp, he turned around, his eyes full of mischief. I didn't move, stunned by Jake's appearance, while all the women in the hall clustered behind me. Spurred into action by an appreciative sigh from one of them, followed by the sliding click of cameras, I spun around to block their view. Kate had already sprung into action, shooing them away, then pushing me through the open door.

"I'll make sure you're not disturbed," she laughed, reaching in to twist the lock before pulling the door closed.

"Jake, what the hell are you doing? Please tell me you didn't walk through the office like that!" I spluttered, trying to wrap my mind around the image in front of me while contending with the raging hard on I had at seeing him standing there, dressed in next to nothing.

"I got the roses," he began, unable to finish when I dragged him to me for a searing kiss. He released the balloons, his hands bunching the back of my suit coat. We made out in the middle of my office, acting like horny teenagers left alone for the first time. Breaking away breathlessly, I rested my head against his shoulder, starring down the front of his gorgeous body.

"Babe, where the hell are your clothes?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"On your chair. I promise-I was completely clothed when I came in, but I had to tell Kate my plans so she could help me get you out of the way." A deep blush filled his face. "Of course, I didn't plan on an audience when you opened the door, either. I guess Kate couldn't resist telling some of the other ladies. You aren't mad, are you?"

"Shocked, surprised, horny as fuck, but no, I'm not mad." I kissed him again. "Did you like the roses?"

"They were gorgeous. I can't believe you sent fifty-four roses, and yes, I caught the symbolism. Thank you."

It was my turn to blush, and I ducked my head to hide it, my eyes falling to the erection tenting the front of his shorts.

"Hun, I need you to put your clothes on, before I have to explain why I'm fucking you on my desk to my boss."

He laughed, stepping over to gather his clothes off the chair. While he put his suit back on, I retrieved the balloon bouquet off the ceiling, weighing the ribbons down with a stack of books. Once he had himself pulled together, Jake perched himself on the corner of my desk, reaching into his breast pocket to pull out an envelope.

"The balloon delivery was the fun part of your gift," he said, handing me the envelope. "Happy Valentine's day, love." My head shot up, sapphire heat meeting melted chocolate, at the word love. "Open it, Em," he urged.

I sat down in my chair, still trying to wrap my mind around his choice of endearment. Using a letter opener, I split the top of the paper, pulling out two folded sheets of paper. I opened them to find ticket vouchers for an all-inclusive trip to Cancun. I shook my head.

"Jake, it's too much," I began, before he interrupted.

"No, it's not nearly enough." He took my hand in his. "I know it may be too soon, but I love you, Emmett. The past two months have been magical and I hope we have hundreds more to add to them in the future."

I pulled him on my lap, the desk chair groaning in protest under our combined size. Kissing him again, I reached into the drawer to pull out the box I'd hidden there. Taking his hand, I turned it over and placed the small wrapped package in his palm. Looking at me in wonder, he opened the gift, his eyes bright while he studied what lay nestled inside.

"It's not a trip to Cancun, but I hope you'll say yes," I murmured, watching while he lifted the sterling silver, heart shaped keychain from the box, a key to my condo already attached to it. "I love you, too. Move in with me, Jake. I want you there every night when I go to bed, and every morning when I wake up. Share my life with me."

The tender kiss he gave me was answer enough.

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><p><strong><em>Just in case you try to mistake me for a hopeless romantic, the working title of this was Useless, Flying, Half-Naked Midget Bastard. Take it for what its worth. MWAH!<em> **


	3. Chapter 3

_**So . . . these boys are pretty damn bossy and have been plucking at me. Of course, it might be because their deepest admirer, harrytwifan, likes to fill my inbox with pictures that remind her of her favorite boys. **_

_**This isn't beta'd, so all mistakes are mine and I freely own them. I don't own Emmett and Jake, but the idea of them together causes delightful shivers down my spine. Also, this fic is purely incidental – updates will occur whenever the boys want to say "Hi!"**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Three <strong>_

Moving my stuff to Emmett's place proved to be a fairly easy task. My apartment was small, most of my furniture secondhand, so I chucked the lot of it. By the time I finished sorting everything else out and donating my discards to Goodwill, I was left with a dozen or so boxes. They easily fit in Emmett's Jeep, leaving only my butt ugly, chocolate brown microfiber beanbag chair. It was huge, easily large enough for two people, and made the perfect place to lounge when playing video games.

The first time Emmett had visited my apartment, after we'd spent that day and a half snowed in at his; he'd declared it the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. I'd pretended to be hurt by his insults to my chair, but in all honesty, I couldn't argue with his assertion. Nonetheless, so long as I could manage to hold a controller and haul my ass off the floor after sitting in it, I wasn't giving up the best gaming tool known to man.

"You're not really keeping that thing are you?" asked Emmett when I hauled it down the stairs to load into my Celica.

Shoving the monstrosity into the car, I slammed the door and retorted, "Don't be hating on the chair. It's fucking amazing. If you're really lucky, I might let you try it out one night while I'm kicking your ass at Madden."

Emmett wrapped his fingers in the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me closer. "You will _never _beat me at Madden," he taunted. I didn't miss the challenge in his sparkling blue eyes, the hint of laughter in his cocky smirk. His voice dropped to a husky murmur, "I'm a genius when it comes to penetration." He punctuated the innuendo with a slight thrust of his hips, before slanting his mouth over mine.

My lips parted to the seeking sweep of his tongue and I let his comment slide, instead relishing the feel of his warmth pressing into me. Chicago in early March was still damp and chilly and Emmett provided the perfect shelter from the brisk wind blowing off the lake. Our interlude was interrupted by the sounds of coughing and a haughty voice.

"Well, I never—."

Emmett groaned when I broke the kiss to glare at the woman who lived in the apartment at the opposite end of the hall from me.

"I'm moving out, Mrs. Turner, so you won't ever again, either," I retorted, stepping around Emmett to move to the driver's side of my car, but not before brushing another kiss across his pouting lips. "I'll see you at home, babe."

My words brought a broad smile to Emmett's face, bringing his dimples out to play, like I'd hoped they would.

"Yep, our home." He smacked me on the ass and took off running toward the Jeep, sliding across the slick parking lot still banked with snow. Pulling himself into the driver's seat by the roll bar, he yelled back toward me, "Last one there does laundry for a month."

Laughing, I coaxed my Celica to life. I'd bought it used while still in high school, and my dad and I had refurbished it together. The odometer was pushing close to two hundred thousand miles, and I needed to replace the battered old car, but I'd been in no hurry to part with the last vestige of my youth. When it spluttered and stalled at the first traffic light, I worried later had become sooner, but the engine kicked back over the minute I turned the key in the ignition again. Offering words of encouragement to the old girl, I coerced it into finishing the trip to Emmett's condo.

I passed where Emmett had parked near the curb to unload, and found an empty space in the lot. The car knocked and pinged, shuddering to a stop once I turned off the engine. While I dragged the beanbag chair out of the backseat, I started a mental inventory of what I wanted in a new car. Functional – obviously, practical given I lived in the city, sturdy enough to make the trips out to my parents in the winter, but not cost me a fortune in gas.

Eyeing up Emmett's Jeep while I strolled toward it, I assessed it with my criteria in mind. The Jeep was an absolute beast, designed to handle the active, outdoorsy lifestyle Emmett enjoyed – one I couldn't wait to be a part of come summertime. Did I want a car that big? Did I really need one, especially if we had Emmett's? I could lean toward something more practical in the city that we could use every day, and we'd have the Jeep for fun stuff.

Just thinking like that brought into focus how much Emmett and I had already begun integrating our lives. I found a certain amount of comfort in it, not the panic I had expected to feel when I finally found someone I wanted to spend my life with. A snowball hitting me in the chest brought me out of my introspection, and I looked up to see him standing at the rear hatch, balancing a stack of boxes.

"Hey, stud, this shit ain't carrying itself upstairs! Get over here and give me a hand." Emmett tempered his words with the audacious wink that I'd been a sucker for from the first time he shot me one at the laundromat.

I snagged a box off the top of his pile. "In case you hadn't noticed, I only have one free hand, babe," I shot back, bumping into him with my shoulder. "And why the hell do you feel it's necessary to hit me with a snowball every time we're in this parking lot?"

Leaning the boxes against the bumper, he pulled down the hatch and triggered the lock, the lights blinking in response. "It's simple," he paused, hefting the pile of boxes again, "I like to see you wet." He walked away, whistling _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_, leaving me standing on the curb, speechless.

Snapping out of it, I hustled after him into the condo lobby, catching up with him at the elevators. "Smartass," I muttered under my breath, mindful of the young woman with a small child also waiting for the car to arrive.

Emmett looked over at me, then leaned around the boxes to bring his mouth closer to my ear. "Yeah, but you love my smart ass," he whispered, his warm breath teasing across my skin and sending a shiver down my spine.

My rejoinder was stopped by the arrival of the elevator. Stepping to the side, I leaned against the door and allowed the woman and her son to board first, then followed Emmett inside. Dropping the beanbag, I kicked it back to the corner and pushed the button for our floor, noting the other passengers would be getting out two floors before we did. Taking a step back, I saw the little boy eyeing up the chair.

"That's cool!" He grinned, revealing a gap-toothed smile, where he'd already lost a few teeth. Based on my knowledge of kids, courtesy of my sisters, I figured him to be about six or seven years old.

"Yeah, it's pretty great, especially for playing video games," I offered, returning his smile.

"You play video games?" he exclaimed. "What's your favorite? I like Monster Jam Madness; I can crush trucks!"

Charmed by his easy nature, and his mother's willingness to let him talk to me, I squatted down to his level and introduced myself, getting his name, Brady, in return. We spent the next couple minutes debating the merits of various video systems, until we arrived at his floor.

"Bye Jake!" Brady waved from the hallway while the doors slowly slid closed. "We havta play football sometime!

Grinning, I turned my attention back to my boyfriend who was leaning against the back wall of the car – a strange wistful look in his eyes. He had set the boxes on the floor when we stepped in the elevator, and I took advantage of his empty hands to step closer, sensing he needed me to. Emmett brought his hands to rest on my hips, our eyes level. He leaned forward and I met him halfway, his kiss filled with tenderness, instead of the passion from earlier.

When I lifted my head to breathe, I searched his eyes. "You okay, babe?"

"Who, me? Yeah, I'm fine."

The elevator jarred to a stop, forcing us to step away from each other and gather up the boxes. I slung the beanbag chair over my shoulder and leaned against the sliding door until Emmett had cleared it, then double-stepped down the hall to catch up to him at the condo door. Dropping the chair again, I dug my keys out of my pocket and unlocked it, holding it open while he muscled his way through with the boxes. I kicked the chair through in front of me, following Emmett into the spare bedroom.

Once we had the first load stacked against the wall, we made another trip down in the elevator to gather the rest. While he moved the Jeep to a parking space, I formed a snowball from the pile of snow shoveled up on the side of the sidewalk, then hefted a pile of boxes to prepare to make a quick escape. I'd only have a very small window to work with in order to keep from getting tackled into the heap that had been created by the plows. Backing slowly toward the door, I let the snowball fly the minute Emmett rounded the end car in the lot, then hauled ass inside. Laughing my ass off, I slammed my hand on the elevator button, cautiously watching the lobby door while I willed it to hurry up. I slid inside and hit the close button just as Emmett entered the lobby. There'd be hell to pay upstairs, but it had been so worth it.

**3 3 33 3**

By the time Emmett reached the condo, I'd stowed the boxes and changed out of my damp clothes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Padding out to the kitchen in stocking-feet, I pondered what to cook for dinner. My perusal of the refrigerator was interrupted by the sound of Emmett stomping around in the foyer, grumbling under his breath about paybacks. I'd been in such a rush to get away; I hadn't paid attention to where the snowball landed. When he rounded the corner, I knew. Snow covered his hair, melted flakes hung on his eyelashes, while rivulets ran down his neck into the collar of his flannel shirt. Slumping against the counter, my body shook with mirth. He set the boxes down, each move slow and calculated, while I struggled to pull myself together and move out of his way. I hesitated one second too long, and found myself on my ass in the hallway with Emmett hanging over me, shaking the water from his hair.

"Think you're fucking cute, huh?" he groused, while an amused twinkle shone in his eye. Emmett could take it as well as he gave it out, so I knew his anger was feigned.

"Nope, but you sure as hell are – all frosted up like a cupcake." I leaned up and licked a drop of melted snow off his neck. "Mmhhmm, taste almost as good, too."

Emmett snaked his hand into my hair, tugging on it to bring my mouth accessible to his, then assaulting my lips. In easy acquiescence, I opened to him, accepting the plunging sweep of his tongue, my fingers searching under his coat to fist in the warm fabric of his shirt. His hips shifted, leaving no doubt that my man was as aroused as I was. The moisture from his hair dripped onto the floor around us, the occasional cold drops that hit my skin sending shivers down my spine Or maybe it was the anticipation.

With the same speed that he'd tackled me, Emmett hauled me to my feet and shoved me into the kitchen.

"I'm going to take a shower; I'm fucking freezing from the snow down my shirt." He stripped off his jacket and tossed it back toward the sofa. "Please put on some coffee so I can thaw out my insides, too." I laughed again, but walked over to the pot. The enjoyment was short lived, though, when I felt a slick of coldness slide down the back of my sweats. "Oh, did I drop that? Oops, meant to throw it in the sink!" Emmett smirked, the damnable dimples that had won me over creating lickable divots in his cheeks. He leaned closer, his sparkling sapphire eyes deepening to damn near midnight. "Love you, babe, he whispered, before brushing a gentle kiss across my lips. "Welcome home."

Stunned at the sudden switch in his disposition, I watched him walk away, my eyes invariably falling to the curve of his ass in the worn Levis he had on. He had me – hook, line, and sinker. In Emmett I'd finally met my match: someone who was as big a practical joker as I was; but who also valued relationships, commitment, and family.

**3 3 33 3**

Once I had dinner started, I went to sort out some of my stuff. Since Valentine's Day, I'd steadily moved my clothing to the condo, so most of what was left was knickknacks and keepsakes that I couldn't bear to part with. Emmett had made space for me all over his home, spots where we could merge our lives together.

Even though it had only been a little over two weeks since we decided to move in together, we had already accumulated a few "our" things. A new picture hung in the living room, something we had found at an art show the weekend after Valentine's Day. We both loved to cook and decided we needed new professional grade cookware and in the kitchen. Everywhere I looked, I could find something that made his condo more and more our home.

By the time we sat down to eat, we'd emptied half the boxes I'd brought with me, and narrowed down several more to go into storage. While I wouldn't get rid of some of my mementos from college, they also didn't need to be lying around, either. All in all, we'd accomplished a lot in one day. Time to kick my boy's ass in some football.

I finished drying the pots, watching Emmett wipe down the stove and countertops. When he turned away to put the containers in the fridge, I snapped the towel. Emmett yelped and jumped, banging his head on the freezer door when he stood up. Sliding around the island in the middle of the kitchen for self-protection, I chortled at the sight of him trying to rub his head and ass at the same time.

"Beat my ass at Madden and I'll kiss yours and make it better," I offered, waggling my eyebrows for effect.

"Oh it is fucking on. Prepare to be annihilated." Emmett tossed the dishcloth in the sink. 'Let's go, little man. Let's see if you can handle playing with the big boys."

Sauntering past him, I grabbed his crotch and leaned in close to answer his challenge. "I can handle anything you can dish out . . . babe." I gave his dick a squeeze for emphasis, then took off running to collapse on the beanbag chair I'd moved in front of the TV earlier. "C'mon, Em, let's see what you got."

Emmett grabbed his controller and dropped onto the floor next to me. We trash-talked through setting up our teams, using the Dream Team option, both groaning when the other picked a player we wanted. Once the teams were set and the game about to begin, Emmett hit pause.

"Wanna make a wager, hotshot?"

I dropped the controller in my lap and leaned back with my hands behind my head to look over at him. My shirt slid up, exposing a stretch of skin and the trimmed, dark thatch of hair that disappeared into the waist of my low-slung sweatpants. Every movement was calculated, intended to garner a reaction. It did. Emmett's eyes fell from my face, trailing down to ogle my abdomen.

"Depends. What'd you have in mind?" I reached down and scratched my stomach, chuckling to myself when his eyes followed every pass of my fingers that I drug languidly across the taut skin. Palming myself on the way to retrieve the controller, I smirked at the slack-jawed stare that dominated my lover's face. Mesmerized, he didn't answer right away. "Em?" I snapped my fingers to get his attention.

"Sorry, what?" Emmett looked up, his eyelids lowering when he saw the expression on my face. "You fucking did that on purpose!" he accused.

"All's fair in love and football, babe. Now, your bet?"

"Strip football. Every touchdown scored costs the other team an article of clothing." He made his announcement with a smug smile.

I shook my head. I should've known Emmett would find a way to turn football into sex.

"Fine. Winner tops." His eyebrow shot up at my easy acquiescence and added condition.

"Ah, then no one really loses, do they?"

Emmett hit the start button before I could answer. By 'halftime' the game was tied at two touchdowns each, both of our shirts were off and our socks discarded, and Emmett was muttering under his breath while he retrieved a bag of Doritos and some cokes from the kitchen. I vaguely overheard something about commando. _Oh yeah, fucking game on!_

The second half, I pulled out all the stops, lacing my gameplay with blatant innuendos that had Emmett writhing to maintain his composure.

Slipping through a tackle into his backfield, I sacked his quarterback. "Yeah baby! Can you feel that penetration?"

Four plays later, when he tried a blitz and my player, Rob Gronkowski, blocked, broke free and fielded a short pass, "Never underestimate the power of a strong tight end."

Nonetheless, despite my best efforts, Emmett managed to score again first. I set the controller on the floor next to me, preparing to stand up and strip off my sweats, when I let the devil inside loose. Pushing back on my shoulders and digging my heels into the floor, I thrust my hips up, slid my fingers under the elastic, and shimmied the material under my ass and down my thighs. I kicked them off my feet and settled back down into the beanbag chair, my burgeoning erection proudly on display in a tight pair of black and white striped boxer briefs.

I picked up my controller again and gestured toward the TV. "Nice one, babe. You really worked that seam and hit the hole hard."

Emmett choked on the mouthful of soda he'd been attempting to swallow.

By the middle of the fourth quarter, neither of us had scored again, I'd cracked more one liners than Howie Long on a Sunday morning, and Emmett was beyond frustrated – and I knew it wasn't all because of the game. After I stalled his offense in the red zone, he threw down the controller and tackled me, pinning my hands over my head.

"Hey! That's encroachment and holding," I admonished, right before his mouth covered mine.

Emmett shifted, placing himself between my thighs, his thick clock grinding against mine through our layers of clothes. Grabbing both of my wrists with one hand, he slid the other inside my briefs to grip my ass.

"Illegal use of hands," I moaned, dropping my head back to allow him better access to my neck.

Letting go of my wrists, he grabbed the controller from my hand to turn the game off, and threw it across the room. "And that's a delay of game. Now shut up and kiss me."

Gladly I complied, tangling a hand in his dark hair, while pulling him closer with the other. The microfill in the beanbag shifted under our combined weight, settling our bodies even closer together. Hands and mouths explored and tasted, the air around us heating up as our arousal grew. Emmett sat back on his heels, dragging his hand down my torso until he reached my briefs. I lifted my ass to pull them off, grasping his thighs for balance when he grabbed my ass and brought my cock to his mouth, swallowing me deep into his throat.

"Ahhh . . . FUCK! Em . . . yeah . . . so fucking hot!"

Gasping, I tried to find the tie on his sleep pants, but gave up when he released my cock and turned his attention to my balls. He drew first one, then the other between his lips, his tongue swirling around them like he was working over a blow pop. _Fuck!_ If he kept it up he'd find the cream filling in no time.

My hands fisted in the loose fabric of the chair, each pull on it causing my shoulders to sink deeper and my ass to lift higher. Never one to waste an opportunity, Emmett took advantage of the elevated position. He shifted his hands, spreading my ass cheeks, his thumbs stroking alongside the puckered muscles. I felt the warmth of his breath seconds before I felt the moist heat of his tongue tease across my hole. Each pass of his tongue brought more pressure, more saliva for lubrication, while in between his thumbs worked the moisture into my needy opening. And then Emmett's finger was inside, stroking, seeking out . . .

"There. God, yes! Right . . . fucking . . . there!" My legs shook, my hips reflexively pressing my ass further into his hand to deepen his reach – wanting to feel it again . . .

And once more . . .

His mouth returned to my cock and balls, the tantalizing heat coupled with the thrusting strokes driving me insane. Emmett drew me out, bringing me the edge of orgasm over and over, until I begged him to fuck me. His hand stilled, the pads of his fingers pressing on my sweet spot, while he slowly pulled his mouth back up my shaft to release me.

He licked his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, while his eyes met mine over my bent knees. "I believe that was roughing the receiver. Because believe me, baby, you _are_ receiving tonight."

Emmett set my ass down and bent over me to reach into the drawer on the end table. Leaning up, I bit his pec, finding my way to the hardened nipple and lavishing my attention on it. My hands were busy tugging at the tie on his pants, shoving them over the ripe swell of his ass, so I could have unfettered access to his cock. We were both too keyed up to wait for them to come off completely.

Snatching the condom from his hand, I tore the package open and worked it down his thick shaft, while he drizzled a stream of lube over his cock and my hand. I laid back, my hand pumping his flesh while I positioned him between my legs. Emmett knelt up, lifting my ass into position, and pressed his flared head against my opening. He eased into me; barely breaching the muscles, then withdrew, repeating the action over and over, his eyes never wavering from the site of my ass opening to accept him.

"Stop. Fucking Teasing," I begged, reaching around my legs to pull him closer.

"Awww, babe. Teasing would imply I'd leave you unsatisfied," he said through gritted teeth, throwing my own words back at me.

The strain of holding himself back showed in every twitch of his muscles. Emmett withdrew once more, before pushing forward steadily until he was firmly seated deep inside me. When he released my legs to lean down and kiss me, I wrapped them around his waist. Locking my ankles, I shifted and clenched; his growl at the sensation muffled by my tongue in his mouth.

With deep, hard thrusts, he began to move, my body rocking from the force of each punishing slap of his hips against my ass. My hands were everywhere at once – touching, caressing, encouraging. Until I'd had him, I'd had no idea how much I needed him. Since then, I couldn't imagine living without him.

Our bodies moved in unison, giving and taking, Emmett's touch taking on a sense of desperation. He gathered me so close I couldn't reach my own aching dick, not that it mattered. The friction would be more than enough after the way he'd teased me. His teeth clamped down on my shoulder, his hips pounded me into the chair. I closed my eyes, riding the crest that he pushed me toward, until stars exploded and my release coated both our stomachs. With a final grunting thrust, Emmett shoved into me, shuddering while he murmured my name against the bruised skin of my shoulder. I'd be sore all over in the morning, but I'd remember every moment of pleasure that got me there.


End file.
